


(Don't) Sing For Me

by WhatIsAir



Category: B.A.P, K-pop
Genre: Gags, Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 22:48:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3706649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatIsAir/pseuds/WhatIsAir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Daehyun wants to get some but Youngjae's being stubbornly un-cooperative. </p>
<p>Or, the one where Youngjae gets tired of Daehyun constantly running his mouth and finds a way to shut him up.</p>
<p>' “Thanks for completely killing my boner, man,” Youngjae tells him, tucking himself back into his pants. '</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Don't) Sing For Me

The door’s barely shut behind them before Daehyun finds himself shoved against it, Youngjae’s mouth on his as they kiss, sloppy with hunger and need. He threads his fingers through Youngjae’s black locks, pulling him closer. When Youngjae’s hand snakes down and palms his growing erection, Daehyun’s whole body shudders and he groans, pushing his hips forward, only to have Youngjae pull away, a smirk on his face and his eyes alight with mirth.

 

Daehyun follows, pitching forwards, chasing Youngjae’s lips. The kiss lasts for all of five seconds before Youngjae breaks it, pushing gently at Daehyun’s chest until he lets up.

 

“Look, do you want sex or not?” Daehyun snaps, miffed. Youngjae’s perfectly-styled hair is mussed, the clothes he performed in wrinkled and screaming debauchery, and his pink lips are kiss-swollen. All Daehyun wants right now is to push him down onto the bed and have his way with him.

 

Trust Youngjae to be this annoying about hooking up.

 

Youngjae grins, a quick flash of teeth. Under the hotel room’s dim lighting, it looks positively predatory. Daehyun swallows, and hopes he’s not being as obvious as he feels.

 

From the way Youngjae’s smirk widens, Daehyun doubts very much that he’s succeeded.

 

Youngjae walks backwards into the room until his knees hit the edge of Daehyun’s bed. He sprawls onto it, propping himself up with his elbows, and looks over at Daehyun, cocking his head.

 

“Well? What are you waiting for?” his friend says, in a tone that says Daehyun’s being a bit slow today, “Get your ass over here.”

 

Daehyun does, although not before somehow tripping over the completely smooth, carpeted floor and flailing, arms windmilling frantically as he tries to regain his balance. Youngjae, when he turns to face him once more, looks fit to burst with the laughter he’s trying to contain, and Daehyun feels the back of his ears burn.

 

“Eager, are we?” Youngjae asks, tone light and teasing, as he stretches out a foot and nudges Daehyun’s thigh with it.

 

“How could I not be?” Daehyun mutters, shrugging out of his jacket and letting it pool on the floor behind him, “You spent half the show trying to turn me on. Well, guess what? It worked.”

 

He’s about to rid himself of his shirt – a shimmery black article that clings to his skin, highlighting all the muscle he doesn’t have (honestly, sometimes he questions whether the stylist noonas actually know what they’re doing) – when Youngjae kicks lightly at him with the foot that’s still on his thigh.

 

“What?” Daehyun asks, hands stilling as he looks up.

 

Youngjae’s sitting up now, and as Daehyun watches, he moves back to sit against the headboards, stretching his legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankle.

 

“Can you do it – I dunno –” Youngjae licks his lips, “– slower? It’s just –” Youngjae looks away, looks down, and Daehyun _swears_ he’s blushing, “– I wanna watch.”

 

_Oh_. And now Daehyun’s cheeks are flaming, too. He’s never been particularly proud of his looks, and the number of times they’ve hooked up were usually hurried, rushed, always with the underlying threat of someone or other walking in on them, leaving Daehyun no room for self-consciousness. This is the first time they’ve had the time and luxury to do it slow, with no tight schedules and ignorant bandmates to worry about (they’ve all gone out tonight), and Daeyhun reasons that if it means making a complete fool of himself in front of Youngjae, at least he’ll still be getting laid tonight.

 

“Okay,” he breathes, locking eyes with Youngjae. He hopes he doesn’t sound as nervous as he feels.

 

He takes a step back, towards the centre of the room, and trails a hand up his thigh, over his abdomen and along his chest, feeling distinctly awkward and the polar opposite of _sexy_. He threads his other hand into his hair, tugging it lightly, just the way he likes it, and lets his head fall back, exposing the line of his throat.

 

The soft gasp that escapes Youngjae doesn’t go unnoticed, and Daehyun feels his lips tugging upwards, the evidence of the effect he has on Youngjae bolstering his confidence. He lets go of his hair, the hand going instead to trace along the line of his jaw, then up over his lips. (He knows Youngjae’s got a thing for his mouth, whether it’s fitting snugly over Youngae’s lips or wrapped around his cock.) His other hand is playing with his nipples, pinching until they pebble, and Daehyun’s breath hisses through his teeth, eyes sliding shut as he digs his nails in with just enough pressure that it stings deliciously.

 

“ _Fuck_ –” he hears Youngjae mutter, and Daehyun opens his eyes to see Youngjae unzipping, pulling his cock out as he starts pulling on it languidly, legs splayed on the bedspread, pupils blown wide, bottom lip sucked in between his teeth as he looks up at Daehyun from under his lashes.

 

The bastard. He knows _exactly_ what pushes all of Daehyun’s buttons.

 

Daehyun groans, tearing his eyes away from the sight before him as he grinds the heel of his hand against his crotch. (He wonders – idly, hysterically – whether an erection tenting the front of his pants would be enough to split its seams.) A giggle escapes him before he can stop it, as his mind goes into overdrive constructing scenarios in which he and Youngjae explain to the stylist noonas, explicitly, _how_ Daehyun’s expensive, skin-tight leather pants came to be ruined.

 

He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified, and looks up to see Youngjae smiling bemusedly at him. Daehyun coughs, and scrambles to salvage what’s left of his pride. “Sorry – I was just – but Jae, how funny would it be if I split my pants because of a fucking _hard-on_?” he says, the words tumbling out before he can stop himself.

 

Youngjae blinks at him, his hand stilling on his cock, before doubling over with laughter. “ _Only you_ –” he gasps, almost wheezing with how hard he’s laughing, “Only you, Jung Daehyun. Oh my god.”

 

Youngjae sits up, and Daehyun sees tears leaking from the corners of his eyes, which Youngjae dabs at with a corner of the bed sheet, his shoulders still shaking with silent laughter.

 

“Um.” Daehyun is left standing in the middle of the room, one hand pressed against his straining member. “Should I go on, or –”

 

“Ah, I don’t think –” Youngjae clears his throat awkwardly, taking his hand off his cock, and Daehyun sees it’s gone soft, “– I don’t think I can, um.”

 

Daehyun’s never felt this mortified in his life.

 

He wishes he could sink into the floor and never resurface again. Not in this life, anyway. A rising heat in his cheeks alerts him to the fact that his face is probably redder than Yongguk’s Matoki, and he doesn’t think he can ever look Youngjae in the eye again. Ever.

 

He groans and flops onto Youngjae’s bed, grabbing his pillow and burying his face in it, as if it can drown out his disgrace. “’m sorry,” he lifts his head from the pillow long enough to mumble.

 

“Thanks for completely killing my boner, man,” Youngjae tells him, tucking himself back into his pants, wiping his hand on Daehyun’s pillow as he does so.

 

Daehyun wrinkles his nose. “That’s disgusting. I’m taking your pillow tonight.”

 

“No, you’re not.”

 

“Watch me,” Daehyun grins, and wraps both arms around said pillow.

 

The sound of bedsprings creaking is the only warning Daehyun gets before Youngjae bodily launches himself over the small gap separating the two beds and tackles him.

 

They scuffle, and Daehyun manages to get a few pinches of Youngjae’s stomach in before he suddenly finds his wrists caught in Youngjae’s grip. He struggles, and somehow ends up on his back with Youngjae between his spread thighs, his hands still rendered immobile as Youngjae leans in, devilish smile gracing his lips, and licks a long, smooth stripe over Daehyun’s neck, swiping his tongue over his (suddenly jumping erratically) pulse.

 

Daehyun swallows, his cock filling again as Youngjae laves his way down his neck and swirls his tongue into the dip between his collarbones. He gasps when Youngjae shifts and he feels an answering hardness pressing insistently against his thigh.

 

“Let’s try again, hm?” Youngjae whispers hotly into his ear, before leaning down and sucking Daehyun’s earlobe between his teeth. “Only this time –” Youngjae pulls back abruptly, and Daehyun practically whimpers at the loss of contact.

 

He watches, helpless, as Youngjae turns his back to Daehyun and leans over the side of the bed to rummage in his suitcase. He emerges with a black silk tie – the one he’d worn to their last awards ceremony – in his hand.

 

Youngjae crawls back up the length of the bed, slotting comfortably between Daehyun’s legs, and brushes an errant lock of hair from his forehead.

 

“Why don’t we try something different this time, Dae?” he murmurs, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his lips, “What if I don’t let you use your mouth this time?”

 

Heat pools unexpectedly in his belly at his words and Daehyun moans, arching up against Youngjae. “Yes, _yes_ ,” he all but growls.

 

There’s a different kind of light behind Youngjae’s eyes as he carefully slips the makeshift gag over Daehyun’s mouth, one that Daehyun’s never seen before. It’s fierce and warm and protective, and Daehyun feels a surge of affection for Youngjae wash over him.

 

This time, Youngjae takes his time stretching Daehyun open and slicks himself liberally before sliding in. He’s gentle and unhurried, and _way too fucking slow_ for Daehyun’s liking. When he digs his heels into Youngjae’s back and whines at the back of his throat for words he cannot reach, Youngjae simply smile and shakes his head, still thrusting into him at that maddeningly slow pace.

 

They’ve never done it like this before, Daehyun thinks wildly, as Youngjae leans in and laps at the sweat pooling at the base of his neck. All those times before, they were either riding the adrenaline high of a good show or blowing off steam when one of them was too strung-out.

 

This – this is new and different and _so much more_. This is Youngjae draping himself over Daehyun, stroking his sweat-soaked hair and murmuring nonsensical words of encouragement as he fucks slowly into him. Fucks _carefully_ into him, like he’s something fragile and precious. The maddening not-quite-enough slide of Youngjae’s cock just barely grazing his prostate has Daehyun near delirious with pleasure.

 

Daehyun keens, the sound swallowed by the tie in his mouth as Youngjae brushes against his prostate, and swivels his hips in an attempt to fuck himself down onto Youngjae’s cock. Youngjae’s hands go to his hips, keeping them in place and Daehyun’s helpless to anything except throw his head back against the pillow and take anything, _everything_ , that Youngjae gives him.

 

His stomach clenches and he comes hard, harder than he can ever remember coming, and he shouts into the gag, spurts of come striping his chest. Some lands on his chin. Youngjae follows soon after, pulled over the edge by the sensation of Daehyun’s walls tightening around him, muffling his shout against Daehyun’s shoulder as he does so.

 

After, when Youngjae’s removed the tie and they’ve cleaned themselves up and are sharing the same bed and pillow, it feels only natural for Daehyun to slip a leg between Youngjae’s and an arm over his waist, for them to slot comfortably together, like this isn’t entirely uncharted waters, like they’ve been doing this for months, _years_.

 

Which is, naturally, when Youngjae opens his big fat mouth to say, “Would’ve started gagging you _months_ ago if I’d known that was the only way to get any decent sex around here.”

 

Daehyun gives him a shove that sends him toppling, buck ass naked, onto the floor.


End file.
